


28 Days Later

by AwatereJones



Series: Torchwwod Style Movie re-writes [16]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: 28 Weeks Later References, Alternate Universe - 28 Days Later Fusion, F/M, Gen, M/M, Movie rewrite, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-08-27 18:31:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16707805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwatereJones/pseuds/AwatereJones
Summary: So ... Ianto wakes to a world gone mad. He meets Jack and they must get out of the city, away from the Turned and most importantly ... discover they like each other. I have pretty much kept to script with this one as I love this movie as is. Two mortals in a world of un-dead Turned... nice and mucky. Alt Verse, a bit of fun.





	1. Chapter 1

Soldiers in a foreign war shoot an unarmed civilian at point-blank range; a man is set on by a frenzied crowd wielding clubs and machetes; a woman is necklaced while her killers cheer and howl. We are seeing one of many screens in a bank of monitors, all showing similar images

The monitors are in a surgical chamber. And watching the screens is a...chimp, strapped to an operating table, and with its skull dissected open, webbed in wires and monitoring devices, muzzled with a transparent guard. Alive. Behind the surgical chamber, through the wide doorframe, a larger laboratory beyond.

A group of black-clad ALF Activists, all wearing balaclavas, move down a corridor. They carry various gear - bag, bolt cutters. As they move, one Activist reaches up to a security camera and sprays it black with an aerosol paint can. The Activists enter the laboratory.

"Fucking hell" The Chief Activist takes his camera off his shoulder and starts taking photos.

The room is huge and long, and darkened except for specific pools of light. Partially illuminated are rows of cages with clear perspex doors. They run down either side of the room. In the cages are chimpanzees.

Most are in a state of rabid agitation, banging and clawing against the perspex, baring teeth through foam-flecked mouths. They reach the far end of the lab, where on a huge steel operating table they see the dissected chimp.

"Oh God" a woman activist gasps as the dissected chimp's eyes flick to the Activists. Blood wells from around the exposed brain tissue. Tears start to roll down the Female Activist's cheeks.

"Keep your shit together. If we're going to get them out of here" their leader warns as he is checking the perspex cages.

"Can pop these, no problem." Another activist waves a crowbar at them with a cocky grin.

"So get to it."

The Activist raises his crowbar and sticks it around the edge of one of the doors - about to prise it open. At the moment, the doors to the laboratory bang open. The Activists all turn. Standing at the entrance is the Scientist.

A pause.

The Scientist jumps to a telephone handset on the wall and shouts into the receiver. "Security! We have a break-in! Get to sector..."

A hand slams down the disconnect button. "...nine."

The Chief Activist plucks the receiver from the Scientist's hands, and then rips the telephone from the wall.

A beat.

"I know who you are, I know what you think you're doing, but you have to listen to me." The Scientist begs "You can't release these animals."

The Chief Activist snarls "If you don't want to get hurt, shut your mouth, and don't move a fucking muscle."

"The chimps are Infected!" The Scientist blurts. The Activists hesitate, exchanging a glance. The scientist's begging is continuing; stumbling, flustered "These animals are highly contagious. They've been given an inhibitor."

"Infected with what?" the leader demands.

"Chemically restricted" the Scientist is still whining "locked down to a... a single impulse that..."

The leader is sick of it now "Turned with _what?"_

The Scientist hesitates before answering.

"Rage."

Behind the Activists, the bank of monitors show the faces of the machete-wielding crowd.

He is desperately trying to explain "In order to cure, you must first understand. Just imagine: to have power over all the things we feel we can't control. Anger, violence..."

"What the fuck is he talking about?" the one with the crowbar asks, approaching a cage.

"We don't have time for this shit!" the leader barks "Get the cages open!"

"No!" the Scientist screams with fear.

"We're going, you sick bastard, and we're taking your torture victims with us." The female sobs, turning back to the cages.

The Scientist is desperate now "NO! You must listen! The animals are contagious! The infection is in their blood and saliva! One bite and..."

"They won't bite me." The Female Activist crouches down to face the wild eyes of the Turned chimp behind the perspex.

"STOP! You have no idea!" The Scientist makes a desperate lunge towards her, but the Chief Activist grabs him.

"Good boy. You don't want to bite me, do you?" The Female Activist gives a final welcoming smile, and then the other Activist pops open the door.

"NO!" the Scientist screams with horror.

Like a bullet from a gun, the Turned chimp leaps out at the Female Activist - and sinks its teeth into her neck. She reels back as the chimp claws and bites with extraordinary viciousness. At the same moment, a deafening alarm begins to sound.

She is shrieking "Get it off! Get if off!"

The crowbar Activist rips the ape off and throws it on to the floor. The Turned chimp immediately bites into the man's leg. He yells with pain, and tries to kick it off.

Behind him, the Female Activist has started to scream. She doubles up, clutching the side of her head. "I'm burning! Jesus! Help me!"

"We have to kill her!" the Scientist screams.

"I'm burning! I'm burning!"

"What's..." Their leader is openly confused.

"We have to kill her NOW!" the Scientist yells.

Meanwhile, the Female Activist's cries have become an unwavering howl of pain - and she is joined by the other Activist, whose hands have also flown to the side of his head, gripping his temples as if trying to keep his skull from exploding.

"What's wrong with them?" their leader yells over their screams as he backs away. The Scientist grabs a desk-lamp base and starts running towards the screaming Female Activist...that has ripped off her balaclava - revealing her face - the face of an Turned.

She turns to the Scientist.

"Oh God." The Scientist whimpers.

She leaps at him. He screams as they go tumbling to the ground. The Leader watches in immobile horror as she attacks the Scientist with amazing ferocity.

Another Activist makes his way down the corridor towards the lab. He hisses "Tommy? Jerry?"

No answer.

"Mica? Where are you?"

He reaches the door to the lab, which is closed - and...as he opens it, we realize the door is also soundproofed. A wall of screaming hits him. He stands in the doorway - stunned by the noise, and then the sight. Blood, death, and his colleagues, all Turned.

"Bloody hell." He gasps.

The Turned rush him.


	2. And here is Ianto

HOSPITAL ROOM - LATE AFTERNOON

Ianto, a young man in his twenties, wearing pale green hospital pajamas. He has a month's beard, is disheveled and asleep.

Ianto is lying on a hospital bed, in a private room. Connected to his arms are multiple drips, a full row of four or five on each side of his bed. Most of the bags are empty.

Ianto's eyes open.

He looks around with an expression of confusion. Then he sits up. He is weak, but he swings his legs off the bed and stands. The attached drips are pulled with him and clatter to the floor.

Ianto winces, and pulls the taped needles from his arm.

"Ow..." His voice is hoarse, his mouth dry. Massaging his throat, he walks to the door.

The door to Ianto's hospital room is locked. The key is on the floor. He picks it up and opens the door. Ianto moves into a corridor.

At the far end, a sign read: COMA WARD.

There is no sign of life or movement.

"Typical" he mutters to himself "What are you in now?"

Ianto walks down the corridor. One of the doors is half-open. From inside, there is the sound of buzzing flies.

Ianto moves as quickly as he can through the hospital, still weak, but now driven by adrenaline. All the wards and corridors are deserted. Medical notes and equipment lie strewn over the floors, trolleys are upended, glass partition doors are smashed. In a couple of places, splashes of dried blood arc up the walls.

He reaches A&E.

On one wall is a row of public pay phones. He lifts a receiver, and the line is dead. He goes down the line, trying them all. In the corner of the A&E reception is a smashed soft-drinks machine, with a few cans collected at the base. Ianto grabs one, rips off the ring-pull and downs it in one go. Then he grabs another, and heads for the main doors.

Ianto moves and walks out into the bright daylight of the forecourt.

"Hello?"

Aside from a quiet rush of wind, there is silence.

No traffic, no engines, no movement.

Not even birdsong.

Ianto walks through the empty city as daylight begin to fade, from St. Thomas's Hospital, over Westminster Bridge, past the Houses of Parliament, down Whitehall, to Trafalgar Square.

Cars sit abandoned, shops looted. Ianto is still wearing his hospital scrubs he found, and carries a plastic bag full of soft-drink cans.

Ianto walks.

Night has fallen. He needs to find a place to rest...He pauses. Down a narrow side street is a church. He walks towards it. The front doors are open.

Ianto walks inside, moving with the respectful quietness that people adopt when entering a church. The doors ahead to the main chamber are closed. Pushing them, gently trying the handle, it is obvious they are locked. But another open door is to his left.

He goes through it.

Ianto moves up a stairwell.

Written large on the wall is a single line of graffiti: REPENT. THE END IS EXTREMELY FUCKING NIGH.

Ianto moves into the gallery level, and sees, through the dust and rot, ornate but faded grandeur. At the far end, a stained-glass window is illuminated by the moonlight. Ianto slinks in, stands at the gallery, facing the stained-glass window for a moment before looking down...Beneath are hundreds of dead bodies.

Layered over the floor, jammed into the pews, spilling over the altar.

The scene of an unimaginable massacre. Ianto stands, stunned. Then sees, standing motionless at different positions facing away from him, four people. Their postures and stillness make their status unclear. I

anto hesitates before speaking.

"Hello?"

Immediately, the four heads flick around. Turned. And the next moment, there is the powerful thump of a door at the far end of the gallery. Ianto whirls to the source as the Turned below start to move. The door thumps again - another stunningly powerful blow, the noise echoing around the chamber.

Confused, fist closing around his bag of soft drinks, Ianto steps onto the gallery, facing the door...and it smashes open showing an Turned Priest - who locks sight on Ianto, and starts to sprint.

"Father?"

The Priest is half way across the gallery

"Father, what are you..." And now the moonlight catches the Priest's face. Showing clearly the man's eyes. The blood smeared and collected around his nose, ears, and mouth. Darkened and crusted, accumulated over days and weeks. Fresh blood glistening.

"Jesus!"

In a movement of pure instinct, Ianto swings the bag just as the Priest is about to reach him - and connects squarely with the man's head.

"Oh, that, was bad, that was bad... I shouldn't have done that..."

He breaks into a run down the stairwell...into the front entrance, where the locked door now strains under the blows of the Turned inside.

"Shit."

Ianto sprints down the stone steps. As he reaches the bottom the doors are broken open, and the Turned give chase.

Ianto runs - the Turned have almost reached him.

"Shit" he repeats as he wonders if this is hell.

 


	3. What happened?

A hand fires up a Zippo lighter, and lights the rag of a Molotov cocktail.

As Ianto runs, something flies past his head, and the Turned closest to him explodes in a ball of flame. Ianto turns, and sees as another Molotov cocktail explodes, engulfing two in the fireball. He whirls, now completely bewildered.

"HERE!" a voice calls with authority. Another Molotov cocktail explodes. The Turned stagger from the blaze, on fire. "OVER HERE!"

Ianto whirls again, and sees, further down the road...A man stands in what looks like a hero pose, an old World War II Great Coat on and a small backpack, a machete is stuck into his belt - and he holds a lit Molotov cocktail in his hand... another tall, blonde man - throwing another bottle. They are wearing surgical masks, Ianto wonders if he will ever escape the hospital vibe of this weird nightmare he can't seem to wake from yet.

It smashes on the head of the last Turned, bathing it in flame...The burning Turned bumps blindly into a car. Falls. Gets up again.

Blindly, it staggers off the road, into a petrol station - where an abandoned car has run over on the pumps. The ground beneath it suddenly ignites, and the petrol station explodes.

The men lead Ianto into a side street.

"Those people! Who were... who..." Ianto staggers with open confusion after them, his face full of fear.

"This way!" the blonde barks "Move it!"

Ianto allows himself to be hurried along.

The man in the Great Coat stops outside a newsagent's shop. The shop's door and windows are covered with a metal security grill, but the grill over the door lock has been bent back enough for him to slip his hand through to the latch.

Inside, most of the shelves have been emptied of confectionery. Newspapers and magazines litter the floor. At the back of the shop, a makeshift bed of sheets and sleeping bag is nestled. This has obviously been their home for the last few days.

Ianto, Blondie and WWII enter the newsagent's and pull down the grill.

"A man walks into a bar with a giraffe." The blonde starts talking to himself, Ianto looking at him with shock "They each get pissed. The giraffe falls over. The man goes to leave and the barman says, you can't leave that lying there. The man says, it's not a lion. It's a giraffe."

Silence.

The Blonde pulls off his mask and turns to WWII "He's completely humorless. You two will get along like a house on fire."

WWII, who has already taken off his mask, ignores him "Who are you? You've come from a hospital."

"Are you a doctor?" the Blonde asks.

"He's not a doctor." WWII has a warm voice full of authority "He's a patient."

"I'm a Librarian. I was riding my bike from Farringdon to Shaftesbury Avenue to meet a man about a rare book. A car cut across me... and then I wake up in hospital, today... I wake up and I'm hallucinating, or..." Ianto's voice peters out as he wonders if this is a dream at all.

"What's your name?" the blonde asks.

"Ianto."

"I'm Andy. This is Jack."

"Okay, Ianto. We've got some bad news." Jack starts to tell him a story, "It began as rioting. And right from the beginning, you knew something bad was going on because the rioters were killing people. And then it wasn't on the TV anymore. It was in the street outside. It was coming through your windows. We all guessed it was a virus. An infection. You didn't need a doctor to tell you that. It was the blood.

Something in the blood. By the time they tried to evacuate the cities, it was already too late. The infection was everywhere. The army blockades were overrun. And that was when the exodus started. The day before the radio and TV stopped broadcasting there were reports of infection in Paris and New York. We didn't hear anything more after that."

"Where are your families?" Ianto whispers.

"They're dead" Andy grimaces and Ianto inhales sharply.

"Yours will be dead too sorry." Jack says softly but Ianto is moving back against the wall.

"No... No! I'm going to find them. They live in Greenwich. I can walk." Ianto whimpers heading for the exit "I'm going to... to go and..."

"You'll go and come back." Jack finishes for him.

Ianto is pulling at the grill "Yes! I'll go and come back."

"Rules of survival. Lesson one - you never go anywhere alone, unless you've got no choice. Lesson two - you only move during daylight, unless you've got no choice." Andy says with a finality that has a tinge of regret to it, he looks at Ianto with such sorrow that Ianto slides down the wall "We'll take you tomorrow. Then we'll all go and find your dead parents. Okay?"


	4. Home sweet...what's that smell?

Ianto, Jack and Andy walk along the Docklands Railway in single file. Ahead is a train. Behind the train, as if spilled in its wake, are abandoned bags, suitcases, backpacks.

Andy drops pace to let Ianto catch up. "How's your head? Fucked?"

No reply.

Gesturing at the city Andy continues talking "I know where your head is. You're looking at these windows, these millions of windows, and you're thinking - there's no way this many people are dead. It's just too many windows."

Andy picks up a handbag from the tracks. "The person who owned this bag. Can't be dead."

He hands the bag to Ianto and walks ahead. Ianto pulls out a mobile phone. He switches it on.

It reads: SEARCHING FOR NETWORK.

The message blinks a couple of times. Then the screen goes blank. Ianto looks left. He is now alongside the train. The inside of the windows are smeared with dried blood. Pressed against the glass is the face of a dead man.

Ianto drops the phone and breaks into a run - running past Andy and Jack.

"Hey!" Andy calls softly.

Ianto, Jack and Andy jog across Greenwich Common. Ianto gestures towards one of the streets on the far side of the green. "Down there. Westlink Street. Second on the left."

The street is modest red-brick semi-detached houses. They stand outside Number 43. Ianto waits while Jack scans the dark facade. "If there's anyone in there who isn't human..."

"I understand." Ianto cuts him off, his face raw with need.

"Anyone." Jack emphasizes.

"I understand."

Jack shoots a glance at Ianto. Ianto is gazing at the house.

"Okay." Andy huffs, "Let's do this."

Ianto uses the key under the flowerpot to open the back door. Ianto, Jack and Andy move quietly through the kitchen and the downstairs of the house.

Surprisingly, everything is neat and tidy. Washed plates are stacked by the sink, newspapers on the table are neatly piled. The headline on the top paper reads simply: CONTAINMENT FAILS.

They reach the bottom of the stairs. Jack gestures upwards, and Ianto nods. They start to ascend. At the top of the stairs, Jack sniffs the air, and recoils.

Ianto has noticed it too. His eyes widen in alarm

"Wait." Jack whispers but Ianto pushes past and advances along the top landing, until he reaches a door. By now the smell is so bad that he has to cover his nose and mouth with the sleeve of one arm. Ianto pushes open the door. Inside, two decomposed bodies lie side by side on the bed, intertwined. On the bedside table are an empty bottle of sleeping pills and a bottle of red wine.

Jack appears behind him. Ianto stares at his parents for a couple of moments, and then Jack closes the door.

.

.

.

.

Ianto sits on the toilet in the bathroom, alone.

He is crying.

In his hand is a piece of paper: _**Ianto - with endless love, we left you sleeping. Now we're sleeping with you. Don't wake up.**_

The paper crumples in his fist.

.

.

.

.

Ianto, Jack and Andy sit in the living room, on the two sofas. Ianto looks dazed, uncomprehending. Jack watches Ianto, his expression neutral. "They died peacefully. You should be grateful."

"I'm not grateful." Ianto's words hang a moment.

Then Andy talks, simply, unemotionally, matter-of-fact "The roads out were all jammed. So we went to Paddington Station. Hoping: maybe we could get to Heathrow, maybe buy our way on a plane. My dad had all this cash, even though cash was already useless, and Mum had her jewellery. But twenty thousand other people had the same idea. The crowd was surging, and I lost my grip on my sister's hand. I remember realizing the ground was soft. I looked down, and I was standing on people. Like a carpet, people who had fallen, and... somewhere in the crowd there were Turned. It spread fast, no one could run, all you could do was climb. Over more people. So I did that. I got up, somehow, on top of a kiosk. Looking down, you couldn't tell which faces were Turned and which weren't. With the blood, the screaming, they all looked the same. And I saw my dad. Not my mum or my sister. But I saw my dad. His face."

A short silence then he continues with the same monotone " Jack's right. You should be grateful"

"We don't have time to get back to the shop before dark. We should stay here tonight." Jack says softly and Ianto nods. He isn't sure what he wants to say.

"My old room was at the end of the landing. You two take it. I'll sleep down here" Ianto finally decides.

"We'll sleep in the same room." Jack shakes his head, a hand resting on Ianto's knee gently, so gently "It's safer."

Ianto doesn't really care.


	5. dust to dust

The sun goes down; the light fades. As night falls, London vanishes into blackness, with no electric light to be seen. Then the moon appears from behind the cloud layer, and the dark city is revealed.

Ianto is on the sofa.

In the moonlight, we can see that his eyes are open, wide awake. Jack is curled on the other sofa, and Andy is on the floor - both asleep. The house is silent. Ianto watches Jack sleeping for a couple of moments. Then, quietly, he gets off the sofa and pads out of the living room, down the hall to the kitchen.

Ianto enters the kitchen, standing just inside the doorway. He looks around the room. On one wall, a faded kid's drawing of a car is framed. Above the counter, on a shelf of cookery books, an album has a handwritten label on the spine: "Mum's Favorite Recipes".

Ianto walks to the fridge. Stuck to the door is a photo of Ianto with his parents, arm in arm, smiling at the camera. Ianto is on his mountain bike, his sister behind him with a matching smile.

Oh god.

Rhiannon.

He knows somewhere deep down she is gone too. They all are. Of course they are. They don't belong here in hell, right?

Ianto looks to the kitchen table and smiles, the cloth still pristine.

.

.

_Ianto, sitting at the kitchen table as his Mum enters, carrying bags of shopping. Ianto walks over to the bags and pulls out a carton of orange juice, which he pulls straight to his mouth and begins to gulp down. His Dad walks in from the garden. "Give me a glass of that, would you?"_

_Draining the carton, and giving it a shake Ianto grins "It's empty sucker"_

.

.

Ianto touches the photo, their faces, lightly. Ianto is facing away from the back door, which has a large frosted-glass panel. Through the glass panel, unseen by Ianto a dark silhouette looms against the diffused glow from the moonlight. Through the kitchen window, a second silhouette appears. Then there is a scratching noise from the back door.

Ianto freezes.

Slowly, he turns his head, and sees the dark shapes behind the door and window. A beat - then the door is abruptly and powerfully smashed in. It flies open, and hangs loosely held by the bottom hinge. Standing in the doorframe is a Turned Man.

Ianto shouts with alarm as the Man lunges at him - and they both go tumbling to the floor. At the same moment, the figure behind the kitchen window smashes the glass, and a Turned Teenage Girl starts to clamber through the jagged frame. The Man gets on top of Ianto, while Ianto uses his arms to hold back the ferocious assault. A single strand of saliva flies from the Man's lips, and contacts Ianto's cheek.

Ianto screams "Help!"

Suddenly, Jack is there, holding his machete. The blade flashes down to the back of the Man's neck. Blood gushes. Ianto rolls the Turned Man off, just in time to see...Andy dispatch the Girl half way through the kitchen window. The Girl is holding Andy, but her legs are caught on the broken glass. Andy jabs upwards into the Girl's torso - she stiffens, then slumps, and as Andy steps back we see he is holding a knife.

Ianto hyperventilates, staring at the corpse on the kitchen floor. "It's Mr. Bridges..."

Jack turns to Ianto. He is hyperventilating too, but there is control and steel in his voice. "Were you bitten?"

"He lives four doors down..." Ianto turns to the Girl sprawled half way through the window. "That's his daughter..."

"Were you bitten?" Jack repeats and Ianto looks at him. Jack is still holding his machete at the ready.

"No... No! I wasn't!" Ianto says with a frown, checking himself as he says so.

"Did any of the blood get in your mouth?"

"No!"

"Andy?" Ianto turns to Andy. He is standing in the middle of the room. Stepped away from the window. The Girl's blood is on his arm - and he is wiping it away... ...off the skin... where a long scratch cut wells up fresh blood.

A moment.

Then Andy looks at Jack, as if slightly startled. "Wait."

But Jack is swiping with his machete. Andy lifts his arm instinctively, defensively, and the blade sinks in. Jack immediately yanks it back.

"DON'T!" Andy cries as Ianto watches with mute shock.

"Andy ... we both know!" Jack says with a finality, "Jimbo went the same way remember?"

"Yeah ... yeah" Andy swallows thicky "Jesus, I can feel it. Like ... heat. Shit ... make it quick. It's OK. sorry Jack."

Jack swipes again - and the blade catches Andy hard in the side of the neck.

Andy falls.

Ianto watches, scrabbling backwards on the floor away from them, as Jack brutally finishes Andy off.

Jack looks at Andy's body for a couple of beats, then lowers the blade. He picks up a dishcloth from the sink counter and tosses it to Ianto. "Get that cleaned off."

Ianto picks up the rag and hurriedly starts to wipe the Turned's blood from around his neck.

"Do you have any clothes here?" Jack asks and Ianto turns to look at him with confusion.

"I... I don't know." Ianto admits, "I think so."

"Then get them. And get dressed. We have to leave, now." With practiced speed, Jack starts to open the kitchen cupboards, selecting packets of biscuits and cans from the shelves, and stuffing them into his backpack. "More Turned will be coming. They always do."

Ianto wonders if they always will...

What is the point?


	6. cold

Ianto and Jack exit the front door. Ianto has changed out of his hospital gear into jeans and a sweatshirt. He also has a small backpack, and is carrying a hockey stick.

Ianto and Jack walk: fast, alert. But something is not being said between them... until Ianto breaks the silence. "How did you know?"

Jack says nothing. Continues walking.

"How did you know he was going to be Turned?" Ianto is insistent.

"The blood."

"The blood was everywhere." Ianto answers "On me, on you, and..."

"I didn't know he was Turned." Jack barks, cutting in "Okay? I didn't know. He knew. I could see it in his face. You need to understand, if someone gets Turned, you've got somewhere between ten and twenty seconds to kill them. They might be your brother or your sister or your oldest friend. It makes no difference Just so as you know, if it happens to you, I'll do it in a heartbeat."

A moment.

"How long had you known him?"

"Five days." Jack replies, then hesitates "Or six. Does it matter?"

Ianto says nothing.

"He was full of plans. Long-distance weapons, so they don't get close. A newsagent's with a metal grill, so you can sleep. Petrol bombs, so the blood doesn't splash." Jack looks at Ianto dispassionately. "Got a plan yet, Ianto? You want us to find a cure and save the world? Or fall in love and fuck?"

Jack looks away again. "Plans are pointless. Staying alive is as good as it gets."

Silence.

They walk. Ianto following a few steps behind Jack. A few moments later, Ianto lifts a hand, opens his mouth, about to say something - but Jack cuts him off without even looking round. "Shhh."

He has seen something...A line of tower blocks some distance away, standing against the night sky. In one of them, hanging in the window of one of the highest stories, colored fairy lights are lit up, blinking gently.

Ianto and Jack walk through the smashed glass doors of the tower block. It is dark inside. Jack switches on a flashlight and illuminates the entrance hall. It is a mess. The floor is covered in broken glass and dried blood. The lift doors are jammed open, and inside is a dense bundle of rags - perhaps an old corpse, but impossible to tell, because the interior of the lift has been torched. It is black with carbon, and smoke-scarring runs up the outside wall.

Jack moves the flashlight to the stairwell. There is a huge tangle of shopping trolleys running up the stairs. Jack gives one of the trolleys a tug. It shifts, but holds fast, locked in with its neighbor. Then he puts a foot into one of the grates, and lifts himself up.

Shining his light over the top of the tangle, he can see a gap along the top.

"Let's hope we don't have to get out of here in a hurry." Ianto mutters dryly as Jack begins to climb through.

Ianto and Jack move steadily and quietly up the stairwell of the tower block, into the building. Reaching a next landing, they check around the corner before proceeding. Through a broken window, we can see that they are already high above most London buildings, and on the wall a sign reads: LEVEL 5.

"Need a break?" Jack asks distractedly.

Ianto is completely out of breath, his hospital bed no place to train for this shit "No. You?"

"No."

They continue a few steps.

"I _do_ need a break, by the way" Ianto finally admits and .Jack nods. They stop on the stairs. Ianto slips off his backpack and sits, pulling a face as he does.

"What's up?"

"Nothing."

Jack gives him a cut-the-crap expression.

"I've got a headache" Ianto admits.

"Bad?"

"Pretty bad." Ianto sighs with grimace.

"Why didn't you say something before?" Jack demands, now annoyed with him.

"Because I didn't think you'd give a shit." Ianto snaps, fed up to the gills with this. Might be easer to join the others out in the street. At least they seem to be uninhibited.

A moment, where it's unclear how Jack will react to this. Then he slips off his own backpack, going through the bag.

"You've got no fat on you, and all you've had to eat is sugar. So you're crashing. Unfortunately, there isn't a lot we can do about that..."

Jack starts to produce a wide selection of pills, looted from a chemist. " ...except pump you full painkillers, and give you more sugar to eat."

He holds up a bottle of codeine tablets, and passes it to Ianto. "As for the sugar: Lilt or Tango?"

Chewing codeine Ianto asks "Do you have Sprite?"

"Actually, I did have a can of Sprite, but..." Suddenly there is a loud scream, coming from somewhere lower down the building. Ianto and Jack both make a grab for their weapons.

"Jesus!" Ianto whimipers.

"Quiet."

The scream comes again. The noise is chilling, echoing up the empty stairwell. But there is something strange about it. The noise is human, but oddly artistic. It is held for slightly too long, and stops abruptly.

"That's a Turned." Jack saus nervously.

Then, the sound of metal scraping, clattering the blockade.

"Shit Jack hisses "They're in."


	7. Rhys and Anwen

"Shit Jack hisses "They're in."

Two Turned, moving with amazing speed over the blockade.

Ianto and Jack sprint up the stairs. Behind them, we can hear the Turned, giving chase, howling. They pass level eight, nine, ten...Ianto is exhausted.

"Come on!" Jack yells encouragement.

Ianto is out of breath, barely able to speak "I can't"

Jack continues, and Ianto looks over the edge of the stairwell, to the landing below...where the two Turned appear, tearing around the corner. Jack sprints up the stairs... and Ianto sprints past him, in an amazing burst of energy and speed. They round another bend in the stairwell...then both Ianto and Jack scream. Standing directly in front of them is a Man in Riot Gear - helmet with full visor, gloves, a riot shield in one hand, and a length of lead pipe in the other. The Man lunges past both of them, barging past, where the first Turned man has appeared at the stairwell.

The Riot Gear Man swings his lead pipe and connects viciously with the man's head. The man falls backwards against the other Turned Man. Both fall back down the stairs. The Riot Gear Man turns back to Ianto and Jack. "Down the corridor! Flat 13!"

Ianto and Jack are stunned, but start to run down the corridor. The first Turned man is coming back up the stairs. Ianto looks back over his shoulder in time to see the Riot Gear Man deliver a massive blow to the Turned's head.

Ianto and Jack run towards Flat 13. The door is open, but as they approach, it suddenly slams shut.

They start hammering on the door yelling to be let in.

"Who is it?" a girl calls nervously.

"Let us in!" Jack pleads as Ianto swings to look behind them with open fear. The door opens a fraction, on the chain. The face of a girl appears. She is fourteen, pale, solemn-faced.

"Where's Dad?" she asks Ianto who looks back down the corridor. At the far end, the Man appears. He is holding the limp body of one of the Turned - and he tips it over the balcony, where it drops down the middle of the stairwell.

He calls back "It's okay, Anwen. Let them inside."

The door closes, they hear the chain being slipped off, then it opens again. Ianto and Jack enter past the pale-faced girl. The flat is council, three-bed, sixteenth floor of the block. It has patterned wallpaper, and nice but boring furnishings. It is lit by candles. The entrance hall leads straight to the living room, which has French windows and a small balcony outside. On one wall, a framed photograph hangs, which shows the Man standing beside a black taxi cab. Next to him is a middle aged woman - presumably the Man's wife. Anwen sits at the cab's steering wheel, beaming. Another photo, beside, show Anwen sat in the seat of a go-kart.

The Man follows Ianto and Jack inside. "

Come in, come in."

They follow the Man through to the living room, and Anwen recloses the front door, which has an impressive arrangement of locks and dead-bolts.

In the living room, the fairy lights hang in the window, powered by a car battery. Lit by their glow, the Man goes through a careful ritual of shedding his gear, helped by Anwen. First, he lays down the riot shield. Then he puts the blood smeared lead pipe on a small white towel. Next, he removes his gloves - and places them beside the bar on the towel. Then he folds the towel over the weapon and gloves, and puts it beside the riot shield. Finally he removes the visored helmet.

Ianto and Jack watch him.

They look pretty rattled, not really knowing what to expect. After the Man has finished shedding his gear, he turns. "So... I'm Rhys, anyway."

He extends his hand to Ianto and Jack. Ianto hesitates very briefly, then shakes it. "I'm Ianto"

"Jack."

Rhys beams, and suddenly he seems much less frightening and imposing. If anything, he is just as nervous as Ianto and Jack.

"Ianto and Jack. Good to meet you. And this is my daughter, Anwen." Rhys says turning to Anwen "...Come on, sweetheart. Say hello."

Anwen takes a step into the room, but says nothing.

"So... so this is great. Just great. It calls for a celebration I'd say. Why don't you all sit down, and... Anwen, what have we got to offer?"

She quietly replies "We've got Mum's creme de menthe."

An awkward beat.

"Yes, her creme de menthe. Great. Look, sit, please. Get comfortable. Sit tight while I get it." Rhys moves.

Jack, Ianto and Anwen all stand, until Jack gestures at the sofa. "Shall we?"

Ianto and Jack take the sofa. Anwen stays standing.

"Where are the bloody glasses?"

"Middle cupboard." Anwen answers her father.

"No! The good ones! This is a celebration!"

"Top cupboard."

Another short, uncomfortable pause. Anwen looks at Ianto and Jack from her position near the doorway. Her expression is blank and unreadable.

"This is your place, then." Ianto says and Anwen nods. "It's nice."

Anwen nods again.

Rhys re-enters. Rhys is beaming, holding the creme de menthe, and four wine glasses. "

There! I know it isn't much but... well, cheers!"

The moon shines above the tower block. Ianto, Jack and Anwen all sit in the living room, sipping creme de menthe. Rhys is disconnecting the fairy lights as he talks, and pulling the curtains closed, rather systematically checking for cracks along the edges.

"Normally we keep the windows covered at night, because the light attracts them. But when we saw your petrol station fire, we knew it had to be survivors... So we hooked up the Christmas tree lights. Like a beacon." Rhys exaplined, finished with the guests on the sofa, he sits on the armchair.

"We're grateful." Jack assures him.

"Well, we're grateful you came." Rhys huffs "I was starting to really worry. Like I say, we haven't seen any sign of anyone normal for a while now."

Ianto looks around "There aren't any others in the building?"

Rhys shakes his head.

"And you haven't seen any people outside?" Jack asks now.

Rhys' eyes flick to Anwen. Then he says softly "We haven't left the block for more than two weeks. Stayed right here. Only sensible thing to do. Everyone who went out..."

"Didn't come back." Jack guesses.

"And there's two hundred flats here." Rhys waves a hand around "Most of them have a few cans of food, or cereal, or something."

Jack sees that he needs assurance so nods "It's a good set-up."

"It isn't bad." Rhys agrees happily as he puts a hand on Anwen's shoulder, and gives it a squeeze. "We've got by, haven't we?"

Ianto is in the bathroom, inspecting himself in the mirror. He is just finishing shaving his beard off, and has had to use the razor dry. He has cut himself several times. Ianto does a couple of last dry strokes with the razor, and winces as he cuts himself again. He uses spit to wipe away the blood.

Then, from outside, Rhys speaks."You okay in there, Ianto?"

"Yes." Ianto calls out "Fine."

Sorry we couldn't spare the water but... it's the same with the toilet. The, er, flush doesn't work. I'm afraid you have to use the bucket." Rhys says through the door and Ianto opens the door and Rhys winces "Have to empty it each morning. We just chuck it over the balcony... No mod cons here."

"It's fine." Ianto assures him.

"Well, look, it's pretty late. I'm going to turn in. We've got a spare room. Are you and Jack...?" Rhys looks uncomfortable.

"I'll take the living room." Ianto says firmly.

"Oh, right. I mean, yes... So, good night then, anyway."

"Good night, Rhys." Ianto says softly and Rhys smiles, then heads to his bedroom. Ianto feels his way down the dark corridor back to the candlelit living room. Jack is standing by the window. He looks around when Ianto enters.

"Very spruce." Jack motions at Ianto's face.

"Very shredded." Ianto agrees.

"Uh-huh." Jack snorts as Ianto sits on the armchair, and Jack moves to look at a picture on the wall - the photo of Rhys' family and the black cab.

"So what do you make of them?" Ianto asks after a while.

"They're desperate. Probably need us more than we need them."

Ianto considers "Jack ...I think they're good people."

"Good people?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's nice." Jack folds his arms as he looks at Ianto "But you should be more concerned about whether they're going to slow you down."

"Right. Because if they slowed you down..."

"I'd leave them behind." Jack finishes.

"In a heartbeat." Jack nods "Yeah."

"I wouldn't." Ianto sighs softly as he sees where this is going.

"Then you're going to wind up getting yourself killed." A moment. Then Jack stands. "I'm going to get some sleep."

"Jack - you think I don't get it. But I do get it. And I know I'd be dead already if I hadn't met you." Ianto calls after him.

Jack hesitates at the door - then turns. "Sure."

"No, look - I mean thank you."

"And I mean sure. Good night, Ianto." He moves, leaving Ianto alone.


	8. the tunnel

"Good night."

Ianto walks around the room, blowing out the candles. He leaves one burning beside the sofa.

Then he slides open the French doors and moves out onto the balcony.

The city is spread out in front Ianto. In the distance, to the north, the petrol station still burns, sending billowing clouds of sparks high into the night sky.

.

.

Next morning Ianto sits on the armchair, facing the window, nursing a can of Lilt. Outside, the sky has just started to brighten with first light. Rhys enters. "Morning, Ianto."

"Good Morning"

"Listen, have you got a minute?" Rhys asks. He motions and Ianto follows, climbing up until they exit a service door to the roof. The view over London is spectacular - low clouds catching the sunrise, and a plume of smoke still drifting up from the petrol station blaze. But more noticeable is that the entire roof area is covered in buckets, pans, bowls, plates...

"We lost water pressure three weeks ago. For a while, I thought we'd be okay with the water in the other flats. The cistern and tanks. But it vanishes so quick you wouldn't believe. You drink it, it evaporates, turns stagnant..." Rhys shrugs.

Ianto is looking at the pans "They're all empty"

"It hasn't rained in over a week." Rhys sits, watching Ianto.

"You can set up a plastic sheet to catch dew and condensation. Trap it somehow. I saw it on TV once and I've been experimenting, but I can't get it to work, and... you don't happen to..."

Ianto shakes his head.

"You'd never think it. Needing rain so badly... Not in fucking England..." Rhys breaks off "Ianto, we don't have enough water for you and Jack too."

A moment.

"Right." Ianto slow blinks.

"No." Rhys hastens to explain "It's not what you think."

.

.

Ianto, Jack, Rhys and Anwen all sit in the living room. Rhys is on the armchair. On the coffee table in front of him is a small radio. He turns it on - producing a fuzz of radio static.

"There haven't been any broadcasts for weeks." Jack starts to say but Rhys interrupts him.

"Just listen." They listen.

Through the static, the sound of a voice begins to sift through.

_The answer to infection is here... if you can hear this, you're not alone... there are others like you... other survivors... we are soldiers, we are armed and we can protect you..._

The Male Voice fades into the static.

Jack is amazed "Soldiers."

"There's more. Listen."

_Our location is the forty-second blockade, M602, twenty-seven miles north-east of Manchester... you_ _must find us..._

"Then it just repeats."Rhys sits back to look at them.

Ianto frowns as he considers, canting his head "It's a recording?"

Rhys switches the radio off, and produces a map of Britain, which he opens on the table. "It's a recording. But this is where it's telling us to go."

Rhys points to the location described.

"The North..." Ianto mutters as he watches Rhys' finger tracing a possible route.

"The way things are, we might need two or three days to get up here." Rhys looks hopeful.

"We. .." Jack flounders "A moment please."

Then Rhys gives a short, embarrassed laugh. "Sound carries in this flat. Jerry-built, I suppose, and... me and Anwen do need you more than you need us."

"I wasn't …" Jack splutters and Rhys hold up a hand.

"It's okay. Look, it's the truth. I can't leave the block if it's just the two of us." Rhys assures him "

If something happened to me, Anwen would be alone. But if we were with other people..."

He lets the sentence hang, gazing at Ianto and Jack with undisguised hope. After wile Jack points out "If it's a recording, for all we know the soldiers who made it are dead."

"Yes. It's possible."

"And that stuff about the answer to infection. There is no answer to infection. It's already done pretty much all the damage it can." Jack looks over at Ianto for backup.

"Maybe they've got a cure" Ianto reasons.

"Maybe they've got nothing at all." Jack sighs at Ianto's look of hope.

"The only way to find out is to reach them." Rhys taps the paper again.

"We could die trying." Jack sits back.

"Or die here." Anwen speaks so rarely that her interjection seems to take everyone by surprise. Including her. For a moment she looks flustered, but then she continues. "And anyway, it isn't true what Dad said. You need us just the same as we need you. We need each other. And we'll never be safe in the cities, and soldiers could keep us safe."

She pauses for a breath. "So we have to try and get there."

A beat.

"Get there how?" Ianto's eyes narrow.

.

..

.

..

.

A black London cab drives fast out of the tower block's underground garage, bursting into the daylight. Anwen and Jack sit on the back seat, and Ianto sits on the fold-down. Rhys smiles, starts the meter running, and leans around to his passengers. "Just so as you know. I don't take cheques or credit cards."

Rhys drives through the destroyed streets of the capital. They pass a stray Turned, through the smashed window of a shop. It's head flicks around at the noise of the cab's engine, and starts to move, but the cab is moving too fast to catch.

The cab pulls up at the entrance of a tunnel that leads under the river Thames.

"What do you think?" Rhys asks as he peers into the gloom.

"It's the most direct route to the other side of the river." Jack mutters as he croucnes, trying ot see in as well.

"Then we should go the indirect route." Ianto joins the conversation "The one in broad daylight. That isn't underground."

"Let's just get it done." Rhys looks at Jack as Ianto's heart falls.

Great.

Here we go them fuck it all.

Rhys floors the accelerator and they head into the tunnel. Rhys drives through the tunnel. Wrecked cars and debris are illuminated in the headlights, and Rhys weaves expertly between them. His passengers roll with the movement of the cab.

"I knew this was a shit idea." Ianto says in a droll tone "You know why? Because it was really obviously a shit idea. Driving into a dark tunnel, full of smashed cars and broken glass is really fucking obviously a shit idea."

As Ianto speaks, out of the gloom, caught in the headlights, a huge pile of cars appears, stretching across the full width of the tunnel. Rhys slams his foot down on the accelerator.

Ianto groans to himself "Oh no."

The cab bumps up onto the barricade and drives over. The cab bumps down the other side of the barricade, with a cheer from the passengers - but the jubilation only lasts a moment, because the cab hits the road hard, on to a carpet of broken glass, and the front left tire blows.

"HOLD ON!" Rhys saws the wheel, but loses control. The cab scrapes along the side of an abandoned car, and then slews to a halt. Rhys tries accelerating again, but the cab immediately pulls left, back into the car. "Fuck."

Rhys jumps out of the cab, and shines his flashlight around the tunnel. Ianto sighs "

The world's worst place to get a flat."

"Agreed." Rhys huffs "I think we'd better do this quick."

Rhys opens the boot and puts the jack into Anwen's hand. "You know what to do."

Anwen immediately runs to the front of the cab and hunches down. Meanwhile, Rhys unclips the spare and hauls it out. Ianto and Jack stand at the back of the cab, weapons ready, shining their flashlights into the darkness. At the front of the cab, Anwen pumps the jack, but it is moving with aching slowness. At the back of the cab, Ianto and Jack wait nervously. There is a noise from further down the tunnel, in the direction which they came. A scrabbling rush of movement - but too quiet to be humans. Ianto and Jack exchange a glance.

"You heard that?" Ianto asks softly.

Rhys speaks from the front of the cab "Heard what?"

Ianto is about to answer. Then is eyes widen. He looks down..."Holy shit."

A tide of rats is rushing under their feet. Rhys screams as the rats rush around them "What the fuck?"

"They're running from the Turned." Jack says with a flat certainty in his voice and as if in answer, the howls of the Turned echo down the tunnel. Anwen desperately positions the jack underneath the cab, as the rats run over her face.

"Anwen, get out, get out!" Rys yells then to Ianto and Jack "Just lift it! LIFT IT!"

Ianto, Jack, and Rhys get their hands under the side of the cab, and pull upwards. The cab rises. Anwen, with great skill and speed, fits the new tire, like a pit-stop mechanic at a grand prix.

Jack is straining with the weight "Come on!"

"Almost there!" As Anwen puts an expert twist on the last wheel nut, the cab's back lights pick up the faces of the Turned spilling over the barricade.

Rhys is shouting "Go! Go!"

They lunge back into the cab, just as the nearest Turned slams against the back window. As the cab races off, Ianto leans out the window. Shouting at the Turned "Fuck you!"

Rhys slams his foot down, and they tear off. The cab races out of the tunnel.

Rhys looks at his daughter with open pride "Honey, you're a cab driver's daughter."


	9. meat

The cab drives through London, the meter steadily clocking upwards. Driving, Rhys' eyes flick down to the fuel gauge. It is under a quarter full. Green shoots are pushing through the cracks in the pavements and road, as nature begins to reclaim the city.

High street. Suddenly Jack cranes around, seeing something. "Whoa! Stop the cab! Stop the cab!"

They have stopped outside of a supermarket. The windows are dark, but unbroken, and it looks as if there is still food on the shelves. "Un. Believable."

He opens the door to the cab, holding his machete. Ianto asks incredulously "You're getting out?"

"This place hasn't been looted. It's a gold mine."

"But we don't know what's in there." Anwen agrees with Ianto.

"Food and drink is what's in there. And we need it." Jack gets out.

"Wait!" Ianto calls out as he struggles from his seat.

"I've been living off Mars Bars and Coke for two weeks. I need some tinned fruit." Jack calls over his shoulder.

Jack tries the door of the supermarket. It swings open.

They enter silently. All carry their weapons at the ready. They peer down the aisles. The supermarket is empty.

Jakc looks at them with glee "Let's shop."

Ianto, Jack, Rhys, and Anwen all split off with shopping trolleys. They look like kids in a toy store. Jack is taking cans off the shelves, three at a time, going down the aisle "I'll have you, you, you, you..."

Ianto taking more stuff off shelves. Jack appears at the top of the aisle. "Don't take anything we need to cook."

Ianto looks at the item in his hand. It is caviar. "Its okay. I think you can eat this stuff raw."

Rhys, standing by the fruit and vegetable section, in front of a bank of rotting apples marked organic. Beside is a pile of apples that look fine. "Mmm. Irradiated."

Jack finding Anwen by a huge array of chocolate. "Ugh. If I never see chocolate again, it'll be too soon."

A beat, as something catches his eye. He whips it off the shelf. "Not counting Terry's Chocolate Orange, of course."

Taking a handful of Yorkie bars Anwen adds "Or Yorkies"

Jack smiles "Or Yorkies, obviously."

Ianto is by the drinks counter, examining the label on a bottle of whisky, as Rhys appears behind him. "Put that back. We can't just take any crap."

"It isn't any crap. It's whisky. It might be good to have."

"Who's arguing about whisky? I'm saying, don't get a cheap blend." Rhys takes a bottle of Lagavulin. "Single malt. Eighteen-year-old. Dark, full flavour."

Ianto starts to back his trolley away.

Rhys continues to croon "

Warm, but not aggressive. Peaty after taste."

Ianto, Jack, Rhys, and Anwen shopping, pushing their full trolleys past the empty checkout desks. As Rhys passes the till, he slaps down a credit card, and they walk off.

The fully loaded cab drives away from the supermarket, riding low on the suspension. The cab reaches the on-ramp to the Westway, and stops.

"We could have a problem here." Jack mutters. The cab sits at the back of an apparent traffic jam leading onto the Westway. Both sides of the dual carriageway are jam-packed with abandoned cars, a deserted gridlock. All cars point in the same direction - out of town. Some of the cars are crashed, riding up on each other, rolled over, burned out. The gridlock snakes along the entire distance of the flyover. Like the destroyed vehicles on the road to Basra, it stretches for miles..."

Jesus Christ." Ianto moans "We're never going to be able to get out of London."

"Don't you worry about that. I've sat twenty years in this seat. I've got my routes." Rhys assures everyone as he wrenches the wheel.

The cab is sweeping through suburban London, cutting down side streets, ducking down alleys, sometimes passing under the Westway flyover. During the journey, they see scenes of devastation. Ianto gazes out of the window as the cab passes a huge cluster of rotting corpses, collected under and in the scoop of an abandoned bulldozer. The dead operator of the bulldozer lies a few feet away from his cabin. The nightmare ends with the cab bumping down a steep grass verge onto the motorway.

"Nice cut-through." Ianto remarks as Anwen finally lifts her face from her arms.

The cab drives down the motorway. There are still vehicles scattered crashed, but fewer and fewer as distance is gained on the city. The needle on the fuel gauge drifts down to the red. A truck lay-by approaches, with a shabby shack-style cafe. A sign outside the cafe reads: CHEESEBURGERS'R'US. And beneath: LAST CHEESEBURGERS FOR SIXTY MILES. In the forecourt are a couple of vehicles. A people-carrier family car, and a truck, slewed off the road. Rhys slows the cab to a halt, some hundred meters away. "Okay. We either do this now, or we're walking."

Everyone moves from the cab. Jack takes a jerry can and a length of plastic tube from the boot, and Rhys gives the ignition keys to Anwen. "If anything goes wrong, you just drive. You put your foot down. And go as far as you can."

No response from Anwen.

"You hear me, Anwen?"

"Yes, Dad."

Rhys, Ianto, and Jack begin to walk towards the service station, holding their weapons at the ready. Cautiously, Rhys, Ianto and Jack approach the truck. There is no sign of life around.

"Stay close, Ianto." Jack hisses without looking at him.

"What?"

"You heard."

While Ianto and Jack stand guard, Rhys works quickly. He prises the fuel cap off, inserts the tube, sucks into the tube, and spits as the diesel begins to flow into the jerry can. Anwen watches from the driver's seat. She has her hands on the wheel, and is sliding her hands over the plastic, making a series of imaginary turns, shifting gears...

As they wait for the can to fill, Ianto tosses his stick into the air, giving it a single flip, catching it as the handle comes back around...being a bit flash. Jack notices, and does not look impressed. Almost in response to his nonplussed gaze, Ianto begins to walk towards the cafe.

"Where are you going?" Jack demands and Ianto points his stick in the direction of the cafe. "We've got enough food."

"We don't have any cheeseburgers." Ianto replies then mutters to himself "Stay close. It's like going on holiday with your fucking aunt."

Ianto walks inside the cafe, and finds the aftermath of carnage. Decomposed bodies lie scattered, on and under tables: a couple of men, a female cook, and a young family. Ianto walks towards the family. The father sits wedged between the seats and the table, which are both bolted to the floor. His neck is snapped, head hanging backwards. The mother lays a couple of feet away, on the floor, half over an infant, as if in a final protective gesture. Ianto looks down at them. Then there is a noise behind. Instinctively Ianto snaps around, swinging the bat as he does so - and connects against a small body, which flies backwards. Only then do we - and Ianto - see what he has hit. Crumpled, motionless on the ground is a Turned Kid, an eight year old boy. A moment. Ianto looks stunned, appalled.

Then the Turned Kid's eyes flick open. Still alive. Ianto's hockey stick swings down.

The can is full. Rhys removes the tube. Ianto appears.

"Find anything?" Jack asks.

Ianto says nothing.

"Find anything, Ianto?" Jack repeats.

"No."

Jack lets it pass - and the moment is broken as Rhys stands with the can. "Okay. We're done." He lifts a hand to Anwen. Anwen smiles, turns the ignition, and throws the cab into gear. The cab tears towards Ianto, Jack and Rhys, then - at the last moment - flips into a handbrake turn, and drifts to a neat stop, a couple of meters from them. Leaning out of the window she sweetly says "I am a cab driver's daughter."

"You're Ayrton Senna's bloody daughter." Rhys laughs.

The cab drives down the motorway, fuel needle pressed up against the full Andy. The meter runs up a tab of over three hundred pounds...They pass a sign for MANCHESTER - 130 MILES.

The occupants have settled into the reflective silence of a long drive. .Jack seems lost in thought. He looks at Ianto, who has his hand stuck out the window, and is using his hand like an aerofoil, catching the wind, dipping and rising. Then he looks at Rhys, and notices...Rhys glance in the rear-view mirror at Anwen, who catches her dad's eye. Rhys smiles, and gives her a wink. The cab drives along A-roads.

Late afternoon and Ianto is looking through some of the bags of food. "Who's unbelievably hungry?"

ALL "Me."

Ianto looks out of the window. They are in completely empty, rolling countryside, stretching for miles. "Let's have a picnic."

They have stopped in a beautiful spot, quite high, clear view. It is a beautiful day. The late afternoon sunshine is bright over the green fields, trees cast long shadows.

Everyone is happily sat on the grass, eating from their hoard. Ianto has pulled open a packet of stale hot-cross bun; Anwen empties a packet of Maltesers into her mouth; Rhys holds a block of cheddar, taking bites from the cheese as if it were cake ; Jack drinks from a can of tinned peaches, swallowing the pieces almost whole, with the juice running down his chin. "Oh my God, yes. I can taste the vitamin C. I can feel it in my blood."

Ianto is cracking a bun in half "These are great. They're like huge biscuits."

He offers half to Anwen, who takes a bite. "It's true. They are like biscuits."

Ianto says completely unintelligible, mouth full, spraying crumbs "An de phraisins ar phrill moipht."

Anwen and Jack laugh.

Anwen says to Ianto "What did you say?"

Swallowing Ianto repeats " said, the raisins are still moist."

Jack and Anwen laugh again.

"Hey." Rhys suddenly says. Everyone turns. "Look over there."

Some distance away, in the fields below, a group of three horses - two adults and a foal - are galloping over the fields as if wild. A majestic and surreal sight, and it somehow implies the way the world will change.

"Do you think they're Turned?" Anwen's voice is small as she thinks the worst.

"No. I think they're doing just fine." Rhys assures his daughter lovingly.

The horses gallop, leaping a stone wall, and away.


	10. all using our eyes

The meal has been eaten. Rhys sits, playing with his radio, trying to listen to the faint broadcast. Beside him, Anwen lies on her back, eyes closed. Ianto and Jack have walked a little distance away from the others, and are sitting on a fence gate, looking over the view.

"You know what I was thinking?" Ianto asks.

Jack considers this a moment. "You were thinking that you'll never hear another piece of original music ever again. You'll never read a book that isn't already written. Or see a film that isn't already shot."

Ianto smiles. "That's what you were thinking."

"No... I was thinking I was wrong." Jack whispers.

"About what?"

Jack doesn't reply for a moment. Then he turns to look at Rhys and Anwen - who look oddly normal, surrounded by the food wrappers from the picnic, Rhys listening to the radio. In that moment Ianto finally sees the real man, reaching out to hook his hand and squeeze gently for encouragement. "It's OK. I see you. You are real. You feel me. I am real. We are still OK. Tell me."

"All the death, all the shit - it doesn't really mean anything for Rhys and Anwen. Because she's got her dad, and he's got his daughter, so... it's okay." A beat. Jack looks back at Ianto "I was wrong when I told you that staying alive is as good as it gets."

Ianto smiles "That's what I was thinking."

" ...Was it?"

"Uh-huh. You stole my thought." Ianto snorts.

Jack leans over and gives Ianto a light kiss on the cheek, smiling back at Ianto "Sorry."

Slightly surprised, but pleased Ianto blushes "Ah, keep it. The payment was more than enough"

Rhys switches off the radio. He looks over at Anwen, who is dozing peacefully, then over to Ianto and Jack. "It's getting late. We should stay here the night."

Ianto raises a hand in reply.

.

.

.

The cab sits, parked up at the picnic spot. Ianto, Jack, Rhys and Anwen lie beside it, wrapped in their jackets, using their small backpacks as pillows. The moon is bright, and only Jack is asleep...

"Can't sleep." Anwen sighs into the darkness.

"Nor can I." Ianto replies softly "It doesn't feel safe, outdoors like this."

"I think we're safe enough." Rhys shushes them.

A couple of moments pass. Anwen notes "...Jack didn't seem to have any trouble."

"I know. I noticed that too." Ianto frowns reaching over and shaking Jack's shoulder "Jack...Jack!"

Jack is extremely drowsy "What... what is it..."

"How did you manage to get to sleep?"

Jack gives a dozy grumble, then sits up, reaches into his backpack, and pulls out several bottles of pills. he hands one of them to Ianto.

"Bloody hell. You must have needed a hell of a prescription for that lot" Rhys splutters.

Jack replies drowsily "I didn't need a prescription. I'm a qualified chemist."

he drops back down and goes straight back to sleep.

Inspecting the bottle Ianto snorts "Valium. Great. Not only will it get us to sleep, but if we get attacked during the night, we won't even care. (pops the lid)Two each?"

"Not for me, thanks." Rhys sniffs.

Indicating Anwen Ianto asks "What about...?"

"Can I, Dad?"

Rhys is doubtful "I don't know, honey."

"Da-ad, plee-ease. I can't sleep."

"All right, all right." Rhys relents "Give her half of one."

Ianto hands it over and slips the bottle into his pocket to give Jack when he is awake.

.

.

..

IANTO'S VALIUM DREAM

Ianto is riding his bike through the city. It's London back to normal, pre-infection. Busy streets, traffic, pedestrians, car horns, radios playing. Ianto rides fast, his courier bag over his shoulder, weaving between cars, shooting a red light, turning a corner into...Gower Street. Suddenly, a car pulls out into Ianto's path. The car brakes hard, and Ianto brakes hard, skidding...and the two miss each other by a whisker. The Driver flashes into road rage. "You stupid cunt!"

"Fuck you!"

The Driver flips Ianto the finger, and accelerates away. Ianto remains stopped by the pavement, one foot down for balance, breathing hard. Pedestrians pass. Groups of people, everyday people, walking watches them, noticing their faces. Some talk to each other, or into mobile phones. Some smile, or walk lost in thought. After a few moments, Ianto sets off again, seemingly distracted, still watching pedestrians' faces...then two of the faces seem to catch his attention. A man and a woman, middle-aged, chatting. His parents. Ianto's head turns as he passes them, confusion on his face, his bike drifting into another lane...into the path of a second car. The car that hit him..

.

.

.

.

.

"Hey." Rhys' hand is on Ianto's shoulder. Ianto stirs, half-wakes.

Ianto is confused, semi-conscious "What..."

Rhys is sitting beside him - and we see for the first time that Rhys is awake, keeping guard over them while they sleep. "SShh. You're having a bad dream, that's all."

Ianto's face relaxes a little. He mumbles, half-asleep already "Okay, Dad."

Rhys raises his eyebrows, and then smiles.

.

.

.

.

EARLY MORNING

Ianto is sitting up. The others are all awake. Rhys bouncing the repaired flat tire to check it, Anwen slipping on a fresh sweatshirt from her backpack, Jack leaning against the cab, chewing on a chocolate bar.

"Here you go, Rhys. This is how you catch dew. I'm covered in the fucking stuff." Ianto huffs.

"Okay. Let's get rolling." Packing the spare away Rhys grins as he checks his watch "If we make good time, we'll be there before midday."

The cab is driving, then slows to a halt. Everyone is looking at something ahead of them. They seem awestruck.

"Bloody hell..." Ianto splutters with awe.

"It must be Manchester." Rhys agrees.

"But, the whole of Manchester. The whole city..." Ianto shows sorrow.

"No fire crews to put it out." Jack shakes his head. On the horizon ahead, there is the glow of a truly massive fire. The smoke spreads into the sky like the plume from a vast, spreading volcano crater. The city burning.

The cab drives towards the surreal sight. As they drive, pale flakes begin to fall, drifting past the windows.

"It can't be..." Anwen gasps "Is it snow?"

hitting the windscreen wipers Rhys growls "It's ash."

The cab drives through the ash fall. Through the soft blizzard, they pass a sign for: MANCHESTER - 14 MILES (in the opposite lane). The city is behind them.

The cab drives down a motorway. The ash is still falling, and they start to pass bodies by the roadside. Inside the cab there is a sense of real anticipation. Everyone is sitting up, scanning the road ahead. Then they come over the brow of a hill, and the ash-fall clears like mist parting, to reveal...

"Okay, everyone. I think this is it." Rhys warns.

Fifty meters down, the road is blockaded. It is obviously a military construction - hurriedly put together, but expertly built. Behind rolls of razor wire are fifteen foot sheets of corrugated iron, held upright by scaffold pipes. In the middle of the blockade there is a gap wide enough to get a vehicle through, but concrete blocks force a chicane.

On either side of the road there are sandbag nests. On the corrugated iron, white painted words read: 42ND BLOCKADE. But despite the impressive construction, there is no sign of movement or life.

"Try the horn" Ianto suggests.

"Don't." Jack cuts in quickly "We might attract the wrong kind of attention."

The cab rolls slowly towards the blockade - past many more bodies, Turned, rotting. It reaches the chicane, and eases around the concrete blocks. Then it passes through the gap in the corrugated barrier. On the other side of the blockade, canvas tents have been erected on the grass verge, and two transporter trucks are parked. A few packing crates and tarpaulins are also scattered around. But still no signs of life. The blockade appears to have been abandoned.

Rhys slows to a halt, but keeps the engine running. "What do you think?"

"It looks deserted" Ianto frowns.

Jack adds "Or overrun."

Rhys flicks the radio on - there is only static. He switches it off again. "Let's check it out."

Everyone moves from the cab, holding their various weapons. Ianto has his hockey stick, Jack has his machete, and Rhys has his lead pipe...Cautiously, they begin to explore. They first head over to the grass verge and the tents. In front of one of them, Anwen picks up a Bergen backpack. She upends it, and a few clothes fall out. Rhys moves past her, and carefully pulls back the tent flaps - machete at the ready. Inside, there is a small table, and maps and papers are strewn across the floor. And a radio.

"I don't understand." Anwen asks "Did they leave?"

Ianto pushes open the flaps of another tent with his hockey stick. "They didn't all leave."

Inside, several body bags lie, buzzing with flies. Jack stands several feet away, by one of the packing cases. He pulls out a tangle of camouflage webbing, then lets it drop back inside. "I don't like this. I think we should go."

"No!" suddenly snapping Rhys barks then composes himself "The vehicles. We should check the vehicles first. There has to be something..."

Rhys jumps down from the back of one of the trucks. Like the others, like everything else it is empty. "Nothing. Nothing here. I can't believe it."

"Rhys." Jack says gently.

"We should go."

"Yes."

Exploding Rhys swings to face Jack "Go fucking where? What the fuck are we supposed to do? How is this going to fucking end? It's never going to …"

Rhys cuts himself off. Then, turning from the others, he walks away.

Rhys walks underneath the archway of one of the blockade structures, and sits down. Needing to be alone. His head sinks, staring at the ground beneath his legs. A couple of moments later he looks up - and sees that sitting opposite of him, on the other side of the archway, almost mirroring his posture and position, is a dead Turned. The corpse of the Turned sits gazing back at Rhys with sightless eyes. A moment between the two of them. A blank-faced exchange. Rhys looks left and sees the corpse of another Turned, a few feet beyond the blockade. And another, beyond it. And another, a few more feet to the right. Then Rhys looks upwards. Above him, on the walkway of the blockade, another corpse lies. And this corpse is swarmed with crows, picking at it. Rhys gets up. He says under his breath "Get out of it."

The Rhys is suddenly shouting "GET OUT OF IT!"

He bends, picks up a rock and throws it, but misses, sailing past them. In a rage again, Rhys goes under the blockade and starts to kick it. The scaffold clangs, vibrates, and - startled - the crows lift off from the mutilated corpse and fly...dislodging, or disrupting, a single droplet of blood from the corpse, that rolls off the neck, and begins to fall downwards. Down... to where Rhys gazes upwards. The droplet splashes, pinpoint perfect, on Rhys' eye. Rhys frowns, his hand immediately going to his face. The fingers come away, with the tiny smear of red.

"Dad... are you okay?"

* * *

 


	11. Damn!

Rhys turns. Anwen is there, with Ianto. Jack stands a little way further back.

"I... I'm fine, honey. I'm sorry. I just lost my temper. I..." He breaks off.

"What?" she asks.

Rhys frowns. A hand goes to his temple."Anwen..."

Abruptly, the colour is draining from his face. He shouts to Anwen "Get away from me."

"Dad?"

"Get away from me!" Rhys screams and looks to Ianto "Get her away from me!"

Anwen is moving to Rhys "Why? What's..."

Rhys lashes out and shoves Anwen away, knocking her back to the ground. "GET AWAY FROM ME!"

A trickle of blood runs out of Rhys' nose. Then he doubles up, clutching the side of his head. He screams with pain

"Ianto..." Jack yells breaking into a run "Ianto, he's Turned!"

"No!" Anwen lunges towards her dad, but is caught by Jack. Holding Anwen back he shouts "Ianto!"

But Ianto is frozen, holding his hockey stick. Rhys screams again. Then drops to his knees. Anwen struggles with Jack, trying to get to Rhys. "Dad!"

"Ianto!"

Ianto is still frozen, hockey stick half-raised.

"KILL HIM!"

And Rhys looks up, his face contorted. The infection has taken hold. And at that moment there is a rifle report, a rush of air, and a rapid thump of impact. Rhys falls forwards to the tarmac. A moment of silence.

"...Dad?"

Jack lets Anwen go. Suddenly, the GUNFIRE comes again. Three shots in quick succession - into Rhys' motionless body. In a daze, Anwen starts towards her dead father.

"STAY AWAY FROM HIM!"

They all turn to see three British soldiers standing by a jeep. One of the soldiers (Farrell) advances, with his gun still raised, while the others (Mitchell and Clifton) hold back giving cover. "Get away from the man! NOW!"

Ianto steps towards Anwen and grabs her, pulling her away from Rhys' body. She doesn't struggle. She is in a state of absolute shock.

"Jesus." Jack sobs before composing himself.

.

.

.

.

A jeep drives down a small road - away from the blockade. Ianto, Jack and Anwen sit in the back. Behind is the cab, driven by the Sergeant. A little way ahead of them, the walled grounds of a huge country mansion appear.

From a cast-iron gated entrance, a gravel driveway leads up to the impressive country mansion, surrounded by a high perimeter wall. The grounds show acres of lawn and flower beds. These have obviously had many years of very careful cultivation and attention, but now are just starting to look unkempt and overgrown. The jeep pulls up by the front steps. Waiting there is another soldier, a major. Like the other soldiers, he is unshaven, but has the authority of command about him, even in the relaxed way that he stands. As Ianto, Jack and Anwen dismount from the jeep, he appraises them. Then speaks. "I'm Major Henry West. Welcome. We've got beds with clean sheets and a boiler that produces hot water. So you can all have a shower. You look like you need one."

Ianto, Jack, and tear-streaked Anwen gaze back at Henry blankly.

Ianto has a shower, sees the cab driving round in circles outside the shower window, then...

Ianto walks down a sweeping staircase to the front hall. Scattered around are various bits of military gear. A pair of muddy boots, a jacket, assorted kit, webbing, etc.

Henry is sitting, looking out over the back lawn. Pulling back, we see Jack is with him. "You heard our broadcast."

"Yes."

"We must be a disappointment. You were hoping for a full brigade. An army base, with helicopters and field hospitals." Henry said with sorrow.

"We were hoping for..."

Henry interrupted "The answer to infection. Well, as I said, it's here. Though it may not be quite what you imagined."

"I didn't know what to imagine, so..." Jack shrugged "We just feel lucky to have found you."

"You were lucky. The fire drove hundreds of Turned out of Manchester. The surrounding area is teeming with them." Henry glances back at Jack.

"But there's no need for you to worry. We're well protected here."

Henry shows Jack around the grounds. "Three-sixty visibility. Flat terrain all around the house... Floodlights, which we've rigged up to a generator. Don't like to waste the fuel, but when we want to, we can turn night into day. Moving on...High perimeter wall, which helps, and we've been lacing the grounds with trip wires and land mines."

Henry indicates where Farrell, Smith and Davis can be seen, running a trip wire. "You wouldn't want to go mowing the lawn, but if they get in, we hear them."

Henry leads Jack into the basement level of the mansion. "Secondary to protection, our real job is to rebuild. Start again. Down here is the wood-fired boiler that provides us with hot water. Our first step to civilization. Then to a kitchen...And here, the kitchen."

Several of the soldiers are unpacking the food bags from the cab. One of the soldiers, Mathers, is wearing an apron. "

What are you cooking, Mathers?" "It's a surprise, sir!"

Henry leads Jack into a small courtyard, hanging with bloodstained laundry. And finally...The laundry starts to billow - and with it we hear the sound of rushing movement. As a darkly stained sheet is ripped aside, a Turned is revealed only a few feet away. Jack jumps back, but Henry stays put - as the Turned is suddenly jerked backwards by a chain around its neck. "...meet Mailer."

Mailer is uniformed. A soldier. Apart from the chain around his neck, he is gagged with a filthy and blood-blackened rag tied tight into his mouth. "Johnathan Mailer, Jack. Jack, Mailer. Got Turned three days ago. Mitchell managed to knock him out cold. Got a chain around his neck."

"You're keeping him alive?" Jack gapes.

"The idea was to learn something about infection. Have him teach me."

Jack frowns as he considers "And has he?"

"In a way." Henry kneels "He's teaching me he'll never bake bread. Plant crops, raise livestock. He's telling me he's futureless. And eventually he'll tell me how long the Turned take to starve to death."

A moment.

"Dinner's at seven. Don't forget to tell the girl and your young pretty boy." Henry moves, leaving Jack with Mailer. Mailer lunges at JAck - a moment between them.

Then Jack moves.


	12. Walked into that one, didn't you

Carefully, Jack opens the door to Anwen's bedroom. Inside is Anwen lying on the bed, face covered, on her side. Ianto lies behind her, his arm lying protectively over Anwen's body. .Jack looks around, sees Ianto, and puts a finger to his lips.

Ianto and Jack enter the next room that is apparently Jack and Ianto's, and close the door.

"So how is she?"

"She's lost her dad. That's how she is." Ianto snaps, then takes a moment "It's all fucked, Jack."

Suddenly Ianto looks as if he's on the verge of tears.

"Hey, don't...do that. Look, Anwen... Anwen's what Rhys said she was. Tough. " Jack pulls him close "Strong. And just like me, just like you, she will cope..."

"Shut up, Jack. Just shut up. I don't want her to fucking _cope._ I want her to be _okay._ "Ianto huffs, letting Jack's warmth soothe "And when Anwen had her dad, it was all okay. Remember? And when it was okay for them, it was okay for us. And now it's _all fucked."_

Then Ianto's tears are flowing. Jack seems to want to reply, but doesn't have the words. Instead, he lifts Ianto's face and kisses him on the lips... a moment. Then Ianto pushes him away. Jack leaves the room.

.

.

.

.

A surreal scene. Dinner, with full silver service, candles, wine and crystal glasses, napkins, and everyone rather formally sitting while Mathers lays food on the table, wearing an apron over his uniform. Made all the more surreal by Ianto and Jack's grubby clothes, and Anwen's dazed, tear-streaked face.

"So, what have we here?" Henry asks jovially "Tinned ham, tinned peas, and omelette. You've prepared a feast, Mathers."

"Honour of our guests, sir."

"Absolutely. I was going to suggest a toast, but this omelette will do just as well." Henry cuts off a chunk of omelette and raises it "To new friends."

Henry pops the omelette in his mouth, then promptly spits it out. "Mathers, did you notice while cooking that these eggs are off?"

"I thought the salt might cover the taste, sir."

Pushing his plate away Henry sighs "Get rid of it."

Henry turns to Anwen as Mathers sheepishly moves, carrying the omelette. "I don't suppose you can cook, can you? I can't tell you how badly we need someone who shows a little flair in the kitchen."

Anwen ignores/is unaware of Henry's attempt to bring her out of her shell. Meanwhile, the soldiers start helping themselves to the other food on the table.

"That's a fucking disappointment." Davis snorts "When I saw those eggs, I thought it was Christmas."

We'll have eggs again. Once everything's back to normal." Bell replies.

The soldiers pause. Exchange glances. Then burst out laughing.

"Listen to him! He's still waiting for Marks and Spencer's to reopen."

More laughter at Bell - interrupted by the sergeant, Farrell, who conspicuously is not joining in. "I think Bell's got a point. If you look at the whole life of the planet, man has only been around for a few blinks of an eye. So if the infection wipes us all out, that is a return to normality."

Farrell turns to Bell. "Is that what you meant, Bell?"

"Uh...yeah."

Henry says to Ianto and Jack "Have you met our new-age sergeant? Remind me, Farrell, why exactly did you join the army in the first place."

A moment.

"This is what I've seen in the four weeks since infection. People killing people. Which is much what I saw in the four weeks before infection, and the four weeks before that, and before that, as far back as I care to remember..." Henry takes a breath "People killing people. Which to my mind puts us in a state of normality right now."

Jack turns to Anwen. "You're not eating."

"I don't want to eat."

Henry picks up on their exchange. "You must eat, Anwen."

"I don't want to eat. I want to bury my dad. He's one of the people you're talking about."

A silence over the dinner table. Broken by the thud of a mine detonation. Then... "Stand to!"

And suddenly all the soldiers are kicking back their chairs, jumping to their feet. Producing SA-80s that they had under the table.

Farrell, Mathers, Mitchell, Bedford, Smith and Clifton race out of the house, fanning, dropping into position. "Go, go, go!"

Two more soldiers, Davis and Bell, fire from window positions on the mansion's first floor.

"Mathers!" Farrell screams "Cover right! Bell, Three o'clock! Three o'clock!"

Coming across the grounds are four Turned, sprinting across the lawn towards the house. Immediately, one of them is catapulted into the air by an explosion under its feet - a soldiers open fire, Mathers closing his eyes as he pulls the trigger. The three remaining Turned are cut down - one hit in the head by Smith, another folding under a burst from Farrell, the last falling under fire from Mitchell, landing face down on a mine which explodes onto its chest. Chunks of Turned spin into the air, then patter down like a light rain.

A delighted Mitchell screams "That was mad! Did you see that! That was fucking mad!F"

An angry Farrell roars "Clear!"

"Clear." Mathers agrees.

Mitchell is still laughing "Clear. Fuck me, I never saw that before. Keeled over and - bam! Gone, like fucking magic."

"I drew a lovely bead. One shot. Right between its eyes."

Ianto stands, looking out of the open French windows at the soldiers. Jack is standing behind him. Ianto is holding his blade. The soldiers bounce in. Mitchell and Smith in particular are hyped from their adrenaline rush. "It was all hanging in the air, and all these bits coming down, and..."

Mitchell catches sight of Ianto holding his blade at his side. "Hello."

He heads towards him, and takes the machete from his hands. "I'll tell you what: you don't need this penknife any more, sweetie. I'm here to protect you now. (winks at the other soldiers) But listen, if you want to hold a huge chopper..."

Bedford bursts out laughing, and Ianto grabs his blade back.

"Whoa! Feisty!" He gives him a slap on the backside.

"Fuck you!" Ianto snarls.

"You bet. How about right now?" Now doubly hyped. Mitchell reaches forward and pulls up the hem of Ianto's T-shirt. he yelps and twists, knocking back his hand. "Yeah! A little rough stuff!"

Farrell barks "Mitchell stand down!"

But Farrell clearly has little command over Mitchell, who tries again for Ianto's T-shirt, still laughing.

Jack snaps. Angrily grabbing Mitchell "Cut it out!"

And Mitchell turns immediately on Jack, his sexual charge flipping seamlessly back to violence, grabbing Jack, propelling him back across the room, up against a wall "Easy, tiger. You don't want to go picking a fight with me."

Suddenly Farrell is behind Mitchell. We see a movement (a kidney punch), and Mitchell drops. He is gasping, on the ground "Ahh, you cunt. Cunt."

Then - as if through sixth sense, sensing a presence, all turn. Henry is standing in the doorway. A moment. Then Henry turns to Mitchell - who has picked himself up, and is clutching his side, breathing hard. "Corporal, first point of order after an attack."

"Re-secure the perimeter, sir."

"Then get to it. Mathers, Bedford, go with him." He looks at Farrell "Sergeant?"

"Sir."

"Clear the bodies off the lawn. The rest of you go with him." He orders and the soldiers exit, leaving only Ianto, Henry and Jack in the room. Jack is shaken, and won't meet Ianto's eyes. Henry hands Ianto back his blade. "My apologies."

Ianto takes the machete and moves, but Jack doesn't follow. Obviously there is something he wants to say to Henry. Jack and Henry enter the study room. "Drink?"

Henry walks over to a drinks cabinet, and pours two brandies, waiting for Jack to speak. "Look. We're grateful. Very grateful for your protection, and just to have found other people. But if we're going to stay here with you, you're going to have to stop your men from…"

"Who have you killed?" Henry asks.

Jack is thrown "I haven't killed anyone."

Henry hands Jack his drink. "Since it began, who have you killed? You wouldn't be alive now if you hadn't killed somebody."

A moment.

"You had to. Otherwise he'd have killed you. Survival. I understand. You don't want to say" Henry nods "I promised them women."

"What?"

Eight days ago I found Mathers with his gun in this mouth. He said he was going to kill himself because there was no future. What could I say to him? " Henry sighs "We kill all the Turned or wait until they starve to death. And then what? What do nine men do except wait to die themselves? I moved us from the blockade, I set the radio broadcasting, and I promised them women. Because women mean children. You bring one."

Jack turns and runs out of the room. Henry yells after him "And children mean a future."

Jack bursts into the bedroom. Ianto is dressed, sitting next to Anwen, who is awake. "Get up. Get up!"

"Wha..."

"We've got to get out of here!"

"But we..."

Jack is hauling them up "We're leaving. Now! NOW!"

They run down the stairs...heading for the front door. But behind it is Mitchell, waiting, holding his SA-80. Jack is hit full in the face, and blacks out. As he comes around, he can hear the sound of shouting and screaming. Farrell is backing away from other soldiers, who are closing in on him, even though his gun is raised. "You can't do this! You can't do this! Get back! I'll fucking slot you! I'll slot you, I fucking swear it!"

But he doesn't follow his threat through. We hear him scream as the soldiers overpower him. Jack looks up, and sees Henry is kneeling over him.

"I want to give you a chance. You can be with us, or not."

Jack stares back at him. And Henry gazes at Jack, searching behind his eyes. And understands what he finds. "Okay, Jack. Okay."

Henry gives Jack's cheek a soft pat, and then rises. "Him too."

Jack's eyes flick to the side, where he sees Ianto holding Anwen tightly. Ianto looks down at Jack, terrified.

Black.


	13. man up

"He's insane." Farrell's voice can be heard.

Jack, blindfolded, is sitting beside a radiator, to which his hands are tied. He is in a cellar. Farrell is on the other side of the small room, also tied. Jack, blind, looks around at the sound of Farrell's voice.

"You know what they're doing, a few hundred miles from here? Across the channel, across the Atlantic, they're eating dinner. They're wondering what to watch on TV tonight. They're sleeping next to their wives."

Jack's head turns.

Farrell continues to speak "But we're here, chained to a fucking radiator because the OC has gone insane. Starting the world again when the rest of the world hasn't even fucking stopped. Think about it! How could infection cross the oceans? How could it cross the mountains and the rivers? They stopped it. And right now TVs are playing and planes are flying in the sky and the world is continuing as fucking normal. Think. Actually think about it. What would you do with a diseased little island?"

A moment.

"They quarantined us." Farrell hisses "There is no infection. It's just people killing people. He's insane."

Jack tries to focus "... Quarantine?"

Then the door to the cellar bursts open, revealing Mitchell and Mathers.

Mitchell and Mathers are leading Jack and Farrell through a small forest at the back of the mansion garden. Time has passed. It has started raining. Both Jack and Farrell have been badly beaten. Jack's shirt is ripped. Blood runs from his nose, and from a cut on the side of his head. He seems dazed. Numbed. More by the situation than his beating.

Jack and Farrell are led into a clearing. Just ahead is a high, ivy-covered brick wall - the perimeter wall of the mansion. And at the base of the wall are bodies. Stacked, tangled, swarming with flies. Jack turns, and sees Mitchell and Mathers standing behind him.

"Come on then, you fucking pansies. Do me first." Farrell snarls as Mitchell grins, and pulls out his bayonet. "So you're going to stick me, Mitchell? Is that it? Is that how you're going to let your sergeant go out, Mathers?"

"No, Mitch." Mathers agreed "Do it with the gun."

Mitchell ignores Mathers, and starts to fix the blade to the end of his gun.

"You're going to let him stick me, are you? Like a fucking dog?"

"Mitch, come on. Just shoot him." Mathers demands.

"Why?"

"Because it's quick."

"So?" The bayonet fixes home with a click.

"I'll shoot him, then."

"You fucking won't." Mitchell snarls to Farrell "Any last words?"

Farrell spits in Mitchell's face. And Mitchell sneers "I'm going to enjoy this."

Mitchell pulls back his bayonet, and at that moment, there is an explosion of gunfire. Mathers has fired and killed Farrell. As Farrell drops, the enraged Mitchell turns on Mathers. "Stupid cunt! What are you doing?"

Mitchell knocks Mathers down, putting his gun right in Mathers's face, then he is whirling "How did he..."

They turn. Jack has vanished. From the side of the clearing, in the trees, there is the sound of sudden movement.

"There!"

Both men immediately set off, diving back into the foliage...A beat passes. Then, in the pile of bodies, one of them sits up...Jack. We have been looking right at him. But in the tangle of bodies, and the bloodstained clothes, his camouflage was complete.

Mitchell and Mathers move fast, scanning, pushing through the undergrowth. Mitchell is absolutely furious. And as they run, they startle a couple of birds, which fly up from the ground, making a suspiciously familiar noise...They both have the same realization at the same moment.

Mitchell and Mathers burst back into the clearing, and they start firing into the bodies, emptying a full clip into the corpses...Silence. Then Mathers looks up to the ivy-collared wall...following the path of the ivy upwards, to the coiled razor wire, where a scrap of torn and bloody clothing hangs.

"Oh no. We're fucked, we're fucked."

"No problem. He's outside. No gun. No vehicle. He's a dead man." Mathers assures his comrade.

Jack runs through the woods, away from the mansion. His hands are still tied. He is out of breath, frightened, jumping at every sound. Then he trips, rolls down a short slope, and when he comes to rest, he is looking upwards. Above him, there is a parting in the clouds, and through the parting is blue sky.

And across the sky, bisecting the blue, is a single vapour trail. A pin-prick of silver plane. Followed by a sonic boom. As much in Jack's head as anywhere else.

.

.

.

.

There is a closed door, with the sounds of a struggle on the other side. Then, suddenly, Ianto's voice: hard, desperate: "You can't do this to her! She's only a child!"

In the room is a large, freestanding mirror. Anwen and Ianto are cornered by Clifton, Bedford, Bell and Davis. The soldiers are hyped. Bedford pulls clothes out of a wardrobe, yanking out dresses, underwear - throwing them at them. Bell stands by the closed door - frightened, caught like a rabbit in the headlights between testosterone madness and the horror. And Clifton is laughing, animal-like, tearing at Ianto's clothes, while Anwen is kicking and screaming - held by Davis. Close-up on Ianto: suddenly transfixed by Anwen the young girl's fight, the hopelessness. Abruptly, Ianto turns, grabs Clifton's arm, and to his amazement, yanks him around. Then he kisses him on the lips. Simply, but unambiguously. Bell, Davis and Bedford watch in amazement. Ianto breaks off. The frenzy has been broken by his extraordinary action - and bizarrely, so has the balance of power.

"You need to give me a moment with Anwen." Ianto purrs, rubbing his crotch suggestively "Alone. Then ... I am yours and believe me I DO know what to do"

Clifton nods - he seems a little dazed. "The OC. He... he wants you to.."

"He wants us to dress up nice. I know how this works, I can be sooooo kinky for you big boy" he picks up two of the dresses Bedford has thrown - the red dresses. "But if you want us to change, you'll have to get out of the room."

A moment.

Ianto acts calm, powerful "It's just fucking polite. I need to get into … character"

Another moment.

Then Clifton nods. Acquiesces.

Clifton turns to the others "Okay. Clear out."

They exit. Ianto stands with Anwen, emptying pills from his Valium bottle. "Eat them."

Anwen hesitates.

"Eat them, Anwen!" Anwen takes the handful of pills and holds them in her open palm. Then she looks to Ianto.

"Are you killing me?"

A moment - maybe a single moment of tenderness, a strand of hair brushed from Anwen's face.

"No. I'm making you not care." Locked eyes with Ianto, Anwen raises the first pill to her mouth. Then the next. The door behind opens - revealing the soldiers.

Clifton sees what is happening. "Hey! What the fuck are you doing?"

Ianto crams the pills into Anwen's mouth. The soldiers lunge for them, as Anwen tries to swallow the pills, and Ianto whirls to fight them off...and at that moment, the sound of distant siren begin to rise.

Everyone freezes.

Then...Ianto whispers with hope "Jack.!"


	14. your boyfriend's back

"He's at the blockade!"

The soldiers run down the stairs. Mathers shouts "He went over the wall! We thought he'd be dead sir!"

"Shut up!" Henry roared "Davis - you're coming with me!"

Jack stands in the blockade, turning the handle of a siren. Rain is pouring down, mingling with the blood on his face. Jack stops, and the sound of the siren starts to fade away.

From the motorway ahead, through the rain, a jeep is approaching. The jeep drives fast down the motorway, and pulls up. Davis is driving and Henry stands on the back, manning the jeep's mounted machine gun. The jeep pulls up, one hundred meters from the blockade, and Henry brings the mounted machine gun to bear on the blockade.

"Okay. Let's see if we can sidestep the cat-and-mouse bullshit." Henry opens fire.

Bullets rip through the blockade, punching holes through the vehicles, smashing through the packing crates...Henry stops shooting. With a peal of thunder, the rain suddenly begins to flood down. The barrel of the machine gun spits and steams as the raindrops hit the hot metal.

Davis pulls up at the outskirts of the blockade, and they get out of the truck. Henry and Davis make their way into the blockade. With a signal from Henry, the two split up. Henry moves through the blockade. He lets off a controlled burst of shots into the tents. Stealthily, Davis searches around the trucks and tents...

A flash of movement - fast, like an Turned, ducking behind one of trucks: Jack. Davis wipes the rain from his eyes, and presses forward. Jack is nowhere to be seen. Another flash of movement, around the back of the next truck.

Davis moves around the truck...but Jack is not there. "Fuck."

Davis turns, and sees...Jack, flying towards him, holding Rhys' lead pipe, lips drawn back over his teeth in a manic smile, murderous. He is the vision of the Turned, in his expression, his movements, the blood, everything.

Henry turns, as if having just heard something. Perhaps a scream "Jack?"

Another noise. This time it is unambiguously a Turned howl. Henry turns again. From down the motorway, and from the fields, he can now see the Turned. A large number, attracted by noise of the heavy machine gun, are approaching. He looses off a couple of shots at the Turned, then starts to back away to the jeep.

Henry runs up to the jeep. Through the rain, and the water running down the windscreen, Henry can see a figure sitting at the driver's seat. "Davis?"

The figure doesn't move. Henry approaches cautiously, gun raised, and finds...Davis sitting on the front seat, dead, his skull smashed open.

Henry whirls, expecting to find Jack behind him. But there is no one there. Henry shoots again, blindly, emptying his clip at anything and everything around him. He reloads - hurriedly, hands slipping on the wet clip, betraying nervousness...and fires at a rain shadow that sweeps between two of the tents. Then his nerve is gone.

"Fine! Fine, you bastard! Fucking die out here!" Henry hauls out Davis's body, gets into the driver's seat, turning the ignition...but nothing is happening.

Henry turns the key again, desperately. The motor doesn't even turn over. Reaching under the dashboard, he pulls out a handful of wires. "Jack."

And at the moment, a Turned slams onto the windscreen, face against the glass. Henry shouts out of surprise and anger, lifting his gun, and fires at point-blank range, through the glass, into the Turned's face. The windscreen shatters, blown outwards. And now, where our view was obscured by rain-washed glass, we can see clearly...Turned, in the blockade, coming through the downpour, running towards the jeep. Henry opens fire and cuts them down.

.

.

..

.

Jack appears above Mailer in his pit, and shoots off Mailer's chain.

Mathers stands holding his gun at Ianto and Anwen, who sit on the sofas, opposite each other. Also in the room are Clifton, standing by the French windows, and Mitchell. Mathers seems jumpy, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, as if sensing that things have gone seriously wrong. A flicker of lightning lights up outside. "What was that? Was that a claymore?"

Michell snorts "It was lightning."

"But I heard something." Mathers whimpered. A moment. Rain and wind lash the windows.

"I'll go and hit the floods. Take a butcher's. Keep an eye on him, would you?" Mitchell moves. Mathers wipes at the beads of sweat on his upper lip.

And in noticeable contrast, Anwen is completely calm... "Those pills. I think they're having an effect. I can feel them, and... I don't feel sleepy, but..."

Her sentence trails off. Then she turns to Mathers. "They've been a long time."

Mathers says nothing.

"What are you going to do if they don't come back?" Anwen asks in a sing-song voice.

Mathers still says nothing, but the question is clearly hitting a nerve.

"Will you be the boss if Henry is dead? Is that the way if works?" Anwen asks with a slow blink and Ianto looks at Anwen quickly.

"Shut up." Mathers snarls.

"I don't think they are coming back. I think they've been killed."

"I told you to shut up!"

Ianto is nervous "Anwen..."

Anwen repeats flatly "They're dead."

Anwen's eyes flick over Mathers' shoulder, and something fleeting passes over her face. "You're going to be next."

At that moment, a mine detonates in the mansion grounds.

"Shit!" Mather yelps and at that moment, the floodlights power up...illuminating Mailer, just on the other side of the French windows, just behind Clifton, a split second before he smashes through. Then he does smash through. Clifton is thrown to the ground, with Mailer on top of him. "Help! Shoot him! Shoot him!"

Mathers is hopeless, panicking - fires, and misses.

Anwen watches, spaced out. Ianto shakes Anwen by the shoulders, pulling Anwen upwards. "Anwen! Anwen! We have to get out of here!"

Mailer vomits blood into Clifton's face.

Ianto and Anwen back out of the living room, through the house. Anwen is very doped up.

"Oh Jesus, Jesus, Anwen, stay with it, stay with it." Ianto pants as he keeps trying to move forward.

Anwen is relaxed, as she's yanked along "Don't worry. I feel fine. Really."

They reach the front hallway, and the front door bursts open...Mitchell, with Bedford.

"What the fuck's going on? What's all the shouti..." Mitchell is cut off by a high scream, from down the hall, in the direction of the living room. All turn, and see...Mathers, running, screaming, out of one doorway, across the hallway. He has lost his weapon - and is chased by Mailer, but not Clifton. Like a train passing, in half a second they are out of sight. A moment. Then Mitchell explodes. Screaming at Bedford "Don't just fucking stand there! Get after them!"

Mailer chases Mathers into the kitchen, but when he enters, Mathers is nowhere to be seen. Mailer turns, and sees Bedford in the kitchen doorway, holding his gun.

"What the fuck are you going to do now, eh?" But just as Bedford lifts his gun to shoot Mailer...Clifton runs at him, full speed from down the corridor...and Bedford is knocked sideways by the Turned Clifton.

Jack is at the kitchen window, looking in as Bedford is killed by Mailer and Clifton. Mathers covers inside a cupboard, hearing Bedford's .

"Up! Up!" Mitchell pushes grabbing Ianto and the girl to push up the stairs. At the top of the staircase, wide-eyed with fear, is Bell.

"Mitchell? What's going on?"

"Stay here and defend these stairs with your fucking life!" Mitchell barks, He turns back to them, still holding Ianto's arm, and Anwen is gone. Ianto sees her, heading away down towards the corridor.

"Anwen!"

Mitchell starts pulling Ianto in the opposite direction from Anwen. Anwen runs into the dressing room. The freestanding mirror sits in the middle of the floor. Also on the floor are her clothes, and she starts to look through them, looking for her jeans...which she lifts up, then digs in the pocket, and pulls out...a photo of her with Rhys and her mother. She gazes at the photo. At that moment, there is a noise from behind her. She looks up, and sees, in the reflection of the mirror, Clifton, running down the corridor towards her.

Clifton bursts into the dressing room, which is now empty. Clifton freezes, then looks around. Anwen is clinging on to the back of the large mirror, trembling. A moment - then Clifton moves on.

Silence in the kitchen. Bedford lies dead, torn to pieces. A cupboard creaks slowly open, and Mathers peers out. He has been hiding. Trembling with fear, he crawls out...moves into the kitchen...peers out into the hall. It is empty. Mathers starts running. Down the corridor outside the kitchen.

Mathers runs into the front hall...And suddenly stops. Dead in his tracks.

Jack is standing right in front of him. Mathers looks surprised, wide eyed. His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Mathers has run straight into Jack's bayonet. Mathers falls, taking the gun and bayonet with him. Jack steps over his body, and into the house...Jack runs through the radio room. In the break between two blasts of lightning, the room goes dark. When it is re-illuminated, Jack has gone, and Mailer and Clifton have entered.

Jack runs up the stairs.

Henry walks into the front hall, where he finds Mathers. Mathers is lying flat on his back, mortally wounded, gazing up. Still alive - but only just. Taking his very last breaths. Henry kneels beside him, and Mathers' eyes turn to his officer.

He blinks, tries to speak, but is too weak and close to death to form the words. Henry's hand closes around Mathers'.

Mathers blinks once more.

And dies.


	15. stop

Jack runs down a corridor.

He tries a door. Locked.

"Anwen! Ianto!"

He tries another door.

Open.

He runs through...into a kid's bedroom. Jack moves a sofa to block the doorway - which, as it is moved, reveals...Bell, hiding, cowering, terrified.

Foetal.

"I don't have any bullets! I don't have any fucking bullets!" Bell whispers with wide eyes.

Mailer and Clifton outside try to force their way through, and the sofa jumps forwards an inch. A Turned arm flails through the half-open door. Jack leaves Bell, and climbs out the window. As Jack moves, the door to the room bursts open.

Bell is screaming "Don't leave me!"

Jack climbs along the outside ledge, around the corner of the building. Behind him, we can hear Bell screaming as he is killed. Jack keeps going until he reaches the slope of the mansion's pitched roof. There, he finds a skylight window.

.

.

.

.

Henry moves into a basement corridor. Then pauses. There is the sound of movement. A Turned howls.

Then suddenly, pouring out from every door and shadow ahead, come a rush of Turned. Henry opens fire, a volley into them as he backs away fast...to a door, which he slams and bolts behind him.

Mitchell is holding Ianto in one hand, and his gun in the other, dragging him down a corridor. The howls of the Turned fill the house.

"Anwen!" Ianto yells, tripping over the hem if the dress he is wearing.

"Shut your fucking mouth! You want to get us killed?" Mitchell opens a door...which leads nowhere. The floor of the room through the open door is missing. And below, in the basement-level corridor, the space is full of the Turned. They look up at Mitchell, and Mitchell looks down at them. A vision of writhing Hell. They are a mass of faces and bodies. Some are appalling wounded. Some are half-dressed in ragged clothes. Some are naked. "Shit."

He pulls Ianto away, towards another door.

"In here! IN HERE!"

Henry is in the basement corridor, on the other side of the door he has bolted. Ahead, there is movement - rapid. Henry looks to the source, and sees: Clifton, running from the front hall towards him, clearly Turned.

No alarm registers on Henry's face. As Clifton sprints towards him, Henry remains still. Then, at the last moment he closes his eyes...and fires. Clifton is hit, falls. Henry opens his eyes.

.

.

.

.

.

Jack enters the skylight window, into an attic, positioned above the bedroom. In the floor is a hole, and through it he can see Mitchell and Ianto. Ianto and Mitchell stand in the middle of the room. In the room are Ianto and Anwen's bags, Ianto's machete, lying by the side of the bed. He can see it, but... Mitchell is holding him tight. He has his gun trained on the door, facing away from the window.

"It's me and you, now. And I'm going to get you out of here, and then we're going to find some nice little fucking place, with a pretty little fucking garden, and..." Jack drops down from the attic.

Mitchell turns, but is knocked off balance by Ianto squirming out of his grip...then Jack is on him. With incredible viciousness, the power and savagery of the Turned, Jack beats Mitchell to death. He smashes his head against the wall. Then he throws Mitchell to the ground, and jams his thumbs in Mitchell's eyes. When it is over, Jack looks up. Ianto stands, holding his machete.

Ianto is frozen by the sight of him. The blood on his face. The matted hair. He is the image of a Turned.

Jack stands and takes a step towards him. Ianto remains, motionless, watching him approach. Then, just as he is about to reach him, his arm flashes upwards, holding the machete, to cut Jack down...but he hesitates. He can't do it.

A moment. Then... "That was longer than a heartbeat."

"...Jack?"

Jack moves forwards, and kisses him. Simply. Hard. Then pulls back, leaving a trace of blood on Ianto's lips. "What the hell are you wearing? Not that I am complaining Tiger but … damn!"

Behind Jack's back, the door opposite, in the corridor, silently swings open.

"I thought...I thought you were..." Ianto sobs.

Jack moves forwards, and they kiss. Passionately. Then Jack breaks off "Listen to me. I've got to tell you - I've got to tell you. The world isn't fucked. It's going to be okay. We've got a chance, if we can get to..."

Ianto interrupts him, by continuing the kiss.

And Jack responds.

As, behind him, a small figure in a red dress slip into the room. Then a vase smashes over the back of Jack's head.

"Ow!" He reels back, and Anwen is on him, jumping on his back, hitting him with her fists.

"Anwen! Stop! It's okay!"

Anwen breaks off.

"He's not Turned!" Ianto assures her as Jack holds his head.

"I …. I thought he was biting you."

"I was kissing him!" Jack is still holding the back of his head as he laughs, breaks off "Are you stoned?"

"It's a long story." Ianto huffs. They are interrupted by the sounds of Turned howling. "We have to get out of here."

Jack, Ianto and Anwen run out of the house, through the front hall, to the cab. Anwen gets in the driver's seat...and Jack yanks open the back door, ready to pile into the back only to find...Henry. Sitting on the fold-down back seat. Holding his gun.

"You killed all my boys." Henry pulls the trigger - a single shot. Jack is hit in the stomach and falls backwards into Ianto's arms.

"Jack!"

Anwen floors the accelerator. But instead of going forward, the cab reverses.

"What...Anwen! Anwen?"

The cab reverses fast, then Anwen slams the brakes. The cab slides to a halt. A Turned slams against Henry's window. At that moment, the back windscreen smashes. The hands of the Turned grab hold of Henry's head. Anwen watches, turned around in the seat. Henry scream s- and it's Mailer's face behind him. Anwen floors the accelerator again, but this time in forward gear. Henry is sucked out of the back window.

The cab screeches up to Jack and Ianto. Ianto bundles Jack in, and the cab is off in a spray of gravel...As Henry is killed by Mailer, the silhouettes of the Turned appear in the shadows.

The cab races towards the cast-iron front gates of the mansion - and we see they are locked with a chain and padlock.

" We're going to crash!" Ianto warns as the gates loom. Anwen speeds towards them. " We're going to crash!"

Jack snarls "Just fucking do it!"

Anwen reaches and buckles her seat belt. Jack and Ianto brace for impact... Ianto throwing himself over Jack, their eyes lock.

They hit the gates, hard. Jack and Ianto fly towards the Perspex divider.

Freeze.

Held.

.

.

.

A green field, with three white letters laid out across the grass.

Spelling: HELL

Waking from a nightmare, Jack's eyes snap open with a sharp intake of breath. An echo of when we first saw Ianto lying in the hospital. But this time, he is lying on a double bed, in the bedroom of a small farmhouse. Alone. But Ianto's clothes are scattered. Jack rises. He looks around. Bright daylight is flooding into the room through the window. "Jesus. Not the curtains too."

Jack walks down the stairs and peers into a living room - where he sees the sofa, with its cover removed.

Jack enters the kitchen - to find Ianto sitting surrounded by lengths of material which he is stitching together. His father was a master tailor, so he says.

He picks up a length of red material. Once part of the dress. "You looked all right in this, you know."

Ianto ignores him. Jack walks to the front door and opens it.

A stunning view.

A Lakeland valley, with a single farmhouse, and the black cab parked outside. Also outside is Anwen, who is arranging huge lengths of material on the grass. From our ground-level angle, there is no sense to be made of what Anwen is doing. And we keep pulling back...fast, down the valley, along a single ribbon of road. Past a sign: Langdale Valley...Further, now over a mile distant from the farmhouse, then: Stopping, abruptly. At a single Turned, who sits, emaciated, in the middle of the road.

A quiet moment with the starving emaciated Turned. It is so weak it can hardly move. Only blink.

Then, in the background, a distant rush of noise, the low roar of a jet engine. Slowly, the Turned turns its head upwards, where, in the clear blue sky, it sees: A vapour trail.

A plane.

A silent bird's eye view, looking down, at the valley floor and the farmhouse. Where, outside, we now make sense of the stitched sheets and curtains, as they form letters on the grass below:

HELL

But tiny figures are forming a new letter. An O:

HELLO

Then, in the background, the sound of the jet, the rush of noise.

Anwen call out "There! THERE!"

Jack, Anwen and Ianto look down the valley, where...screaming towards them, flying low along the valley floor, comes a jet plane.

They stand transfixed as the plane races towards them.

As it passes over, flying directly overhead, the terrific wash of air and noises whips around them, connected with a colossal sonic boom...The boom rolls away, and the plane has passed...Around Jack, Ianto and Anwen, the sheets and material of the letters, ripped into the air, now spiral to the ground, falling around them.

"Do you think he saw us this time?" Jack asks.

"I think so" Ianto replies, turning to kiss him energetically, "But either way … I am finished with that . Come on, I will read to you."

Jack smiles as he follows Ianto back in, he does love listening to that voice.

.

.

.

.End


End file.
